


Cakes and Car Rides

by stickyrice



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Mollcroft, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-20
Updated: 2015-02-20
Packaged: 2018-03-13 21:24:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,724
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3396863
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stickyrice/pseuds/stickyrice
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lifts in limos, umbrellas from the rain, and surprise cakes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cakes and Car Rides

**Author's Note:**

  * In response to a prompt by [Amythe3lder](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amythe3lder/pseuds/Amythe3lder) in the [PromptButSlow](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/PromptButSlow) collection. 



> **Prompt:**
> 
> This was emailed in by Cornishrexmomma (cctcangel)
> 
> I'm soooo soooo sooo slow at this! lol

Winter was just beginning to change to spring; the cold didn’t seep into your bones anymore to give you a bone weary chill, but it was still cold enough to see your breath puff out in little white clouds, and your cheeks and nose turn rosy. It was a typical evening in London; the clouds hung low and grey in the sky, and a steady rain filled the streets and sidewalks with puddles, and washed away the last traces of snow and ice.

Molly was stood outside of Bart’s, a bag hung in the crook of her elbow and purse clutched in her hand; her umbrella is wedged against her neck and pressed between her chin and her shoulder, as she rummaged around in her purse for her Oyster card.

Suddenly a strong gust of wind swept up and caught the open umbrella, causing Molly stumble as the umbrella was ripped from her grip and carried into the sky and down the street. As she stumbled forward, her rain slicked fingers fumbled the card in her hand, and Molly watched in wide eyed horror as it jumped and danced in the air, before it fell to the ground, fluttering to float atop the water, only disappear in a rush as it was swept away down the drain.

She stood there momentarily frozen to the spot, rain drops running rivlets down her face and under her collar, sending shivers down her back, conflicted as to what she should chase first; her umbrella that bumped and rolled down the sidewalk, or her Oyster card, cycling around and around in a whirlpool as it washed further down the drain.

She stood there for what felt like mere moments, but in actuality was rather a long time, enough time for passerby’s to at first throw her curious and then concerned looks.

Mycroft Holmes had passed by Bart’s twice this evening on his way to and from meeting with a contact, when he had first spied Dr. Hooper standing on the curb, she was frozen to the spot; the second time he had passed by she was still rooted to the spot, the only difference was the slow swivel of her head from peering down into the drain, and then off into the distance towards the right.

The same spot going on 45 minutes if he wasn’t mistaken. Testing the weight of the handle of his umbrella in his hands, he spun the grip, thinking. Making a split decision, he raised the handle of his umbrella to tap on the glass partitioning him from the driver.

Pulling up alongside her, he waited a moment to see if she would snap out of her daze and take notice of him. When a minute ticked by with not dawning realization, he stepped out of the car umbrella at the ready.

Giving her a curious look, he strode over to her and lifted the umbrella over her to shield her from the rain, still not making an attempt to say a word as he watched her face. Her brows frowned, and in her head she thought to herself that something was different but that she could not put her finger on it. 

When it appeared that she would not come out of whatever it was that she was trapped in, he cleared his throat to gain her attention. At the sudden sound she gave a start and whipped around to face the source of the noise.

“Mr. Holmes! You gave me a fright ... I ... er... didn’t see you there” she stammered, a rising to her cheeks as she looked down at her shoes, her eyes widening as she realized that the puddle she was standing in was significantly larger than when she had first come outside. _How long have I been standing here_ she thought to herself with some alarm.

His eyes glanced over her, and he couldn’t help but notice the weary, almost defeated slump to her shoulders; her slightly bloodshot eyes; and her slightly pink nose. She looked as if someone had kicked her puppy, and try as he might, the sight of her tugged at his heart strings.

“My apologies Dr. Hooper, it was not my intention to startle you. I was just so happening to be passing by and noticed you standing out here in the dreadful weather, and I must insist that I give you a lift home.” He said with a slight tilt of his head, not at all mentioning at he had seen her twice in the same spot in the past 45 minutes, unchanged, and unmoved.

 Even before she was able to reply, he reached out with his free hand and took her elbow in hand and led her to the awaiting car. Opening the door for her, she slid into the dry, warm interior of the car. As he joined her in the backseat, she looked over at him and gave him a watery, weak smile as the car took off.

“Do you think they all forgot or that they just didn’t care enough to remember?” she asked him morosely as she broke the silence that had settled over them as they crawled through the busy streets of London.

He gave her a puzzled look.

“Oh, I’m just being silly, it doesn’t matter. You’d think that at my age, I’d grown out of the silly notion of celebrating birthdays. It’s silly and it doesn’t matter” she stated.

He leveled his eyes with her, and looked at her seriously, “Is it silly to you; does it matter to you” he asked, his questions rhetorical, “If it matters to you, it matters. And your... friends should realize that” he stated simply with a shrug of his shoulders.

Again they both descended into silence, both lost to their thoughts.

_What did he mean by that? Was he telling her that she mattered; that she mattered to him? Were they even friends... yes, they might not be the best of friends, but they were something._

_Had he said too much?_ He thought, blushing internally at his slip of tongue. _Ugh, sentiment! How those big brown eyes just undid him._

The silence between them was comfortable, almost relaxing if not for the knowledge that she was sitting in the car with one Mycroft Holmes, and just that alone should have made her beyond nervous, but she wasn’t.

All too soon they arrived outside of her flat, and each reluctantly threw each other a searching look from under long lashes. Catching her eye, he gave her a small, encouraging smile before he got out of the car and walked towards her side to open her door for her.

Reaching in a hand, she grasped it tightly levering herself out of the car and stumbling slightly on curb, but instantly being steadied in his waiting arms. Looking up at him, she gave him a grateful smile. Holding onto her tightly, he waited until he was sure that she had regained her footing, and even then he did not completely lose his grasp of her.

With a hand on her elbow, he walked her to her door.

Turning to face her, he inclined his head, and his lips quirked up into a small smile that reached, and softened his icy blue eyes, “Good night Dr. Hooper” he said as he reached across her, his arm lightly brushing against her as he opened the door for her, because, you know he is Mycroft Holmes and he could do that kind of thing.

A blush stained her cheeks and she couldn’t help but let her gaze fall and peering up at him from beneath her long lashes.

“Thank you, and good night to you too Mr. Holmes” she said softly as she looked up at him one last time, before brushing against him as she slid under his arm holding the door for her. As she retreated into her darkened home, he let his arm fall away and the door close shut, before making his way back to his awaiting car.

Flicking on the light switch to her kitchen, Molly unlooped her damp scarf and threw it onto the kitchen table, and that was when she noticed a small, non-descript white box, tied with a bright yellow ribbon, and small black card, the size of a business card affixed to it, sitting on the middle of her kitchen table.

Reaching over, she picked up the small card and read the elegant script, ‘Happy Birthday –MH’. Fingering the bow, she pulled it lose, and opened the top. Sitting inside was a small, brightly coloured cake that resembled an orange and black striped kitten.

Even without her realizing it, a bright smile stole across her lips, and she had to bit her lip to keep a bubbly squeal of excitement from slipping past her lips. Looking back at the card in her hands, she clutched it to her chest, and blinked back tears welling in her eyes, as she felt her whole body tighten with emotion.

All this time, of all of the people in her life, the one she thought she did not even register on their radar was Mycroft Holmes, and now here he was, the only one to remember her birthday. Mycroft Holmes never put effort into something that was not meaningful, so maybe she was important; maybe she did matter at least to someone.

Fidgeting with the card in her hands in indecision, she finally plucked up the courage and pulled out her phone to tap out a quick message before it failed her.

Do you make it a habit of breaking and entering into everyone’s home –Molly

She quickly hit the send button before her brain was able to catch up with her actions. Not a moment later the buzz of her phone indicated a received message.

Of course not, who do you think I am. I am but a minor government official, and besides I loathe legwork... I have someone else do it for me –MH

She shook her head and couldn’t help but let out a laugh at his words. Another buzz broke her from his amused laughter, and her eyes widened slightly, and she had to reread the message a few times before she allowed herself to believe that it was real.  

Only because YOU matter –MH


End file.
